


Thawing From The Middle

by tothetrashwhereibelong



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Abuse survivor Maia Roberts, Asexual Raphael Santiago, Autistic Raphael Santiago (implied/referenced), Cuddling & Snuggling, Daylighter Raphael Santiago, Established Relationship, F/M, M/M, Multi, Pack leader Maia Roberts, Past Abuse, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:01:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23585770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tothetrashwhereibelong/pseuds/tothetrashwhereibelong
Summary: Raphael Santiago didn't like to define himself by his hatreds, but this, he had to admit - he fucking hated the cold.Good thing Maia's so warm - and he can be, too, when she needs it.
Relationships: Maia Roberts/Raphael Santiago, Maia Roberts/Raphael Santiago/Simon Lewis/Meliorn (mentioned)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 26





	Thawing From The Middle

Raphael doesn't like to think of himself as a man defined by his hatreds, even if he knows some people can think of no other traits to define him.

( _Only if they don't know you at all,_ he can hear Meliorn's voice saying in his head. 

_We all know he's a softie at heart,_ Simon and Maia had agreed. 

The memory makes him smile.)

But this, he has to admit - he fucking hates the cold. It's as much a part of himself as his own name. 

It was the thing he had immediately despised about New York, as soon as he set foot there. In New York, 20°C - sorry, _70°F_ \- was warm. Summer was so short it was less of a station and more a fluke. There was _snow_.

It was nothing like Guadalajara.

Guadalajara was burning, and loud, and colorful, in all of the best ways. It was hot, and the food was spicy, and midday was filled with the smell of the meals of the whole neighborhood. 

New York was cold, like a sensory deprivation chamber. He felt trapped, and numb, and alone. The first few weeks there felt more like death than when he actually died. 

And when he did die, well - _cold_ was less of a state and more of a constant, for him.

He'd leave his clothes out on the Dumort roof, during the day, while he slept. They were all black, so they could keep the heat as much as possible; even the few red or green pieces had black cloth underneath, courtesy of Magnus' tailor.

It did very little to help. 

Besides, that's another thing he'd always hated about the cold - having to wrap himself all around, being barely able to move, the textures all _wrong_ and painful and keeping him sealed from the world, this depriving kind of _too much_. 

It might be why becoming a Daylighter had been such a blessing for him - if he'd never had proof that God was by his side before, this one he couldn't deny. Being able to feel the sun on his face again - to really feel warm - after almost a century… He could cry just from the pure sense he got that he wasn't hated, wasn't renegated, hadn't been _abandoned_. 

It might also be why he hasn't taken a jacket with him, today. But that one he has to regret a little bit. 

Even under Maia's very generous pile of blankets, he is shivering. It's not like they could do much for him, anyway; he has no heat for them to keep. 

In his defense, it was warm when he left. And he works in a kitchen, so it's always a bit too hot in there. 

_Your job isn't just cooking and you know it,_ he can hear Maia say just like she did as she slapped him lightly with a towel, as the both of them finished closing Taki's for the day. _Just bring a jacket with you,_ she had finished, the annoyance leaving her tone in a single huff, making room for worry - and the painful kind of understanding that made him avert his eyes from her big, beautiful ones. 

"Stop looking so miserable, you're under, like, 10 blankets right now," Maia says, laughing, in that way that lights her up until even he feels a little warmer. 

"Doesn't help a lot when there's barely any warmth for them to keep," he answers. 

"You know, I've always admired the way you can mumble full sentences like that," she answers, that same smile still shining in her eyes, and he swears that he can see it even on the little bounce of her hair as she finishes taking off her pants. She's so lively, every little part of her body bursts with it.

"I didn't mumble," he mumbles, flopping his face down on the pillows. 

"Sure," she says easily, in a way that'd be more frustrating than some witty argument, but he can't even complain because she _finally_ turns off the light and lifts the covers to lay alongside him. 

"Jesus Christ, you really are freezing," is what she says as soon as her body even lightly touches his. 

"Sorry," he answers automatically, trying to keep his distance so he doesn't freeze her. 

"Don't apologize, it's fine," she says, easily, like her skin didn't break out in goosebumps the second it touched his. 

Raphael huffs. "I promise I'll bring a jacket next time," he says, sitting up so he can rub his own arms in the hopes he can get some heat. "I'll just-" 

Maia sighs. "I get it, you know," she says, honestly. "One time I almost froze up because-" she bites her lip. 

Raphael turns to her, immediately, a weird sense of protectiveness overtaking him even as he knows she's _fine_. "Because of what?" he asks, holding himself back from touching her with his icy hands. 

"Because I didn't want to Turn," she says, not looking at him. She has one finger playing with one of her curls, twisting around like it's cuddling with it. Her voice sounds the kind of soft that makes you feel hollow. "The wolf form is very warm, you know. Fur and all that. Way warmer than human," she says. Then she turns to look at him, the force of her eyes always taking him by surprise for a second, so honest and so _deep_ , "did you ever see me Turn, back when Luke was the Alpha?" she asks quietly. 

"I think so," he says. Him and Maia weren't particularly close, at the time; never truly were until he had started dating Meliorn, and Simon, and helping her out at Taki's, until suddenly she felt almost as much a part of her life as the place itself. He fights to bring the memory back, "it was like… you were breaking out of your body," he says. 

It's true, too. Most werewolf transformations were smooth, almost instant. Maia's was long, her whole body snapping and twisting like her body was fighting itself. It was painful to watch, and felt even more painful to remember, now. 

"It felt like that, too," she admits. "It hurt a lot. I felt like I was always fighting it. Even when I _decided_ to Turn… It's like a part of me didn't want to acknowledge what was happening," she admits. 

Sometimes he forgets that Maia felt like a monster, too. He never got it. Sure, she was a werewolf, but that didn't matter, in the same way that becoming a vampire never made Simon any less human. It wasn't really about - the condition. 

She nods like she knows what he's thinking, and takes his hand to plant a kiss on it. It's ridiculous, but it makes him feel a little less cold. "I didn't feel like I was in control," she admits, quietly. "Every time I Turned, I felt like it was being forced. Like it was proof that I still… Belonged to Jordan," she finishes, quietly. 

Raphael hisses, and he doesn't even mind it. Jordan will always bring out the worst kind of hatred in his heart, pretty much like Camille did. He's glad they're both dead, unable to hurt the people he loves anymore. 

She smiles again, like she's thankful for his little display, for how automatically it comes to him. Her hand lingers on his, the both of them drawing comfort from the random patterns their fingers leave on each other's skin. "After he died, things changed a little bit. I've been trying to reclaim my wolf. Make it mine. It brought me too many good things for me to let It belong to him," she says. 

Raphael nods. He can understand that. There's still a lot he misses, but at the end of the day - he built a family after being a downworlder. Magnus. Cat. Madzie. His clan. His partners. The regulars at Taki's. He wouldn't know what to do with himself if he lost them, now. And he wouldn't have had them if he hadn't been Turned. 

Maia sighs, like the words are tiring her out. "But I get it. I get that need to- pretend it won't happen. The cold."

"Thank you," he says, even if that doesn't sound like the appropriate answer; it's the one he feels like he needs to give.

Maia smiles. "It's come to mean a lot to me, to be able to Turn, and not fight it," she continues. "And it's really warm, too." 

He hums for a second, and then it dawns on him. "Is that an offer?" he asks, unable to keep the smile off his face, that wide one that's just on the edge of laughter. 

Maia, who had looked a little drawn, smiles back to him, relaxing back into the conversation. "If you don't mind that we won't be able to talk," she says. 

He shakes his head. "I don't really feel like talking today, anyway," he says, truthfully. He's tired, and there's that buzzing on his head that makes him feel like talking is too much of an effort, sometimes. Like it's taking him from himself. 

"You could have told me," Maia says, not unkindly, getting up slightly and removing the top she usually wears to bed.

"I can handle it," he points out. 

"I know you can. I'm saying you don't have to," she fires back. Her tone is kind, but still cutting in that no-bullshit way only Maia can do. It's one of the many things he loves about her; she's very direct, when it matters. 

He nods, and doesn't say anything. She smiles, shimmying out of her panties, which earns her a snort that she fights back with nothing but a swat in his general direction. It's a testament to how close they are, that Raphael doesn't mind seeing her like this. It's always a little terrifying, looking at someone and wondering what it would be like to _want_ them, and feeling his stomach churn just at the thought. But Maia knows it doesn't mean anything; and it doesn't mean anything to her, either. 

Besides, she's beautiful, her skin almost as brown and shiny as her hair, making she look like the beginning of a starry night. She's soft, too, and there's just something about her that radiates warmth, and safety. 

She's the opposite of Raphael. All light and softness, but with the power to be sharp, and strong, lying underneath. 

And then she Turns, and it's like the midnight sky. Her transformation is smooth now, and mesmerizing to watch. Her fur is darker than her hair, her eyes glowing Alpha green - he'd be lying if he said he didn't miss the brown, so much more real and beautiful and sweet; but somehow her Alpha green doesn't look threatening when she's like this; more like welcoming, and protective. Her fur is just as shiny as her hair, except not as curly. And she's bigger too, bigger than Raphael - not that that takes a lot, he thinks bitterly - and yeah, she was right. She feels like a furnace, radiating heat.

She wastes no time either, immediately making Raphael lie down again - with a soft nudge of her paw over his shoulder, delicate and careful in that way that fills him with endearment. Then she lies on top of him, carefully so he gets adjusted to her weight. Somehow, looking into her eyes, he knows she's smiling. 

As soon as she settles, he wastes no time, his hands running to her back so he can stroke her beautiful fur. It's nice that her fur is straighter than her hair, because they can both get the best of both worlds; the careful way he can squeeze her curls and run the tips of his fingers over her scalp, and the longer strokes alongside her fur. He feels warm in a second, the heat radiating from her making him feel full, and real, and home. He closes his eyes, and there's the faint smell of the spices that still linger on both of them after so many hours at Taki's, and the warmth from her body, and the perfect texture of her body. He's enveloped in her, not like he's trapped, or sealed away; but like they overflow with each other, simple and content. 

He sighs, and she nuzzles his neck slightly, and he's so _happy_ he barely knows what to do with it. 

"It's an honor that you're comfortable with me like this," he says, because it's true, and he wants to say it. He knows how far she's had to go in order to even be comfortable in her wolf form by herself, much less with other people. "I love you." 

She wags her tail, completely disrupting the covers on top of them, and letting out an embarrassed whimper afterwards. Raphael can't help it; he laughs. 

"It's ok," he says, too tired of words to elaborate, but knowing that she knows what he means, anyway. Soon it would be _too_ hot, with the covers over them like this. He barely feels an ounce of cold anymore, and it hasn't even been a minute. 

She nuzzles his neck again, settling against him for real this time, and soon her breaths even and she falls into peaceful, happy sleep. It looks like she's smiling, and despite his tiredness, Raphael finds himself actively fighting the sleep so he can keep running his hands alongside her, watching over her sleep, enjoying her warmth. 

Raphael Santiago hates the cold. But he never wanted to be defined by his hatreds. Not when love beats so loudly inside of him, thrumming with happiness and purpose. 

When he wakes up the next day, sunlight hitting his face and a half-awake Maia mumbling because she forgot to close the window, he feels better rested than he has in years.

Centuries, even.

**Author's Note:**

> comments are always appreciated


End file.
